


the bridge

by Sexytrash



Series: Unorthodox povs [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Logan Sanders - Freeform, POV Second Person, Pills, Suicide mention, gun meantion, jumping, logic/logan sanders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexytrash/pseuds/Sexytrash
Summary: you stand on a bridge.you will not jump.





	the bridge

There were two ways to cope with the urges. Both involve going to the bridge.

  
Usually you scream at first. Before you need to cope. If you get rid of the emotion, you can forget about it, right? But sometimes, shouting in the woods doesn’t help. Then you need to resist the urges. Or bad things happen

  
This first way to cope is to take a bottle of pills out to the bridge. The bridge is in the middle off nowhere, along a forgotten path on a hiking trail. It is small, and narrow, but the sight of the waterfall a few yards away is beautiful. The bridge is a perfect place to go to bring your pills.

  
Once you open the bottle, shake a few pills out. The bottle is mixed up, so you don’t know what pill you get. Each pill represents something. A flaw, something you want to swallow the pill for. In your hand, lies a ibuprofen, and two Xanax.

  
“I haven’t spoken to a human in two weeks.” You tell the first Xanax.

  
“I failed the finals. My grade has plummeted.” You confess to the second.

  
“My dad called the other day to wish me happy birthday. It was four days after, but ‘it’s the thought that counts'” you whisper to the ibuprofen.

  
The pills mean something to you. Something that causes anxiety, or pain, or other things depending on the pill.

  
Then, focusing on how much you hate what you’ve said, you throw the pills into the river underneath the bridge. Keep doing this until you feel better (or at least feel less urges) if done three or four times, throw the whole bottle in the river. It has been tainted with the negative aspects of your life, it cannot help you cope anymore.

  
Then, if still having the urges, stand on the edge of the bridge. Over the rail you go. Stand on the small outcropping where the material didn’t stop for the rail. You shouldn’t either. If there is enough room, sit down. Never let go of the rail, though. This is to help, not hurt. Look down, now. See how far up you are? Do not let go of the rail. You are in control of your life. You can choose your death, and it won't be this way. This is your way of telling your ideations to go fuck themselves.

  
Do not let go of the rail

  
This does not work. It usually does, however this time…

  
Do Not Let Go Of The Rail

  
You reach out with one hand, you reach up because you are too afraid to reach out, because what if you fall, what if you can’t control your self and youletgooftherail.

  
DO NOT LET GO OF THE RAIL

  
Your hand falls. You don’t know how long you can keep the thought at bay. Long enough to get home, probably, but what’s stopping you from-

  
“Please don’t let go of the rail.”

  
You jump, startled. Not the best idea on such a small platform. You almost slip, but your iron grip on the railing supported you and helps you regain balance.  
“what are you doing here?” you are angry. This is your spot. Your bridge.

  
“ I’m taking a hike. I’m meeting my friends at the top of the trail, we’re gonna watch the meteor shower tonight. What are you doing here? Are you going to-“

  
“I wasn’t going to jump.” The bridge was not for jumping. If you fell, (and you have) you would only sprain your leg, breaking it in a worse case scenario. If something went wrong, you would starve to death, probably. You would not die like that. The bridge was a way to cope, to drive the urges away.

  
“okay buddy. I believe you.” he didn’t, they never do. “but it would make me feel better if you stepped away from the edge of the bridge. Please?” He looked at you with an emotion in his eyes. You don't know what emotion, but you know it’s genuine. You step back over the ledge, onto the narrow middle. You do not let go of the rail, still.

 

“My names Patton. What’s yours?” the man asks.

  
You hesitate. Should you tell this stranger anything? He didn’t know you. Doesn’t really care, he just doesn’t want you to kill yourself in front of him.

  
“Logan.” A simple, small word, capable of connecting two people far more than it should.

  
“Well, Logan, do you have anyone to pick you up? I can lend you my phone if-“

  
“Thank you for your concern, however, I am not planning on committing suicide. I am, in fact, going to watch the meteor shower tonight as well.” You take a step forward, and hear a clinking sound in your pocket. It seems this time you did not throw The pill bottle away. How odd. You suppose it does not matter how you did the ritual, as the entire thing was messed up by this visitor. As you take the bottle out of your pocket, Patton pales.

  
“Oh, kiddo! Let me take-“ you stop Patton so that he does not waste energy talking about useless matters. As you throw the bottle over the edge, Patton’s eyebrows furrow.

  
“While I may have harmful urges, Patton, I do not intend on committing suicide.” Patton looks at the waterfall for a moment, before smiling at you. You do not know how you feel about this boisterous man.

  
As you make your way up the mountain, Patton chatters nonstop. Frankly, it is annoying. You want him to stop, but it is numbing, listening. By the time you make it up the mountain, you've forgotten what you were going to do.

  
His friends- a boy hunched over, in a black hoodie and a boy speaking in a loud 'theater' voice- called you a stray. Another one Patton’s brought in, says the loud one. His name’s Roman, and he’s the prince of the stage. Self-proclaimed, you assume.

  
You sit next to the quiet one, he doesn’t give his name. You two sit together for a while, and eventually, Patton stops hovering over you and the boy finally opens his mouth.

  
“ so you got caught too, huh? Patton has a way of finding people when they need it most.”

  
“Yes, he does seem the type.”

  
“He means well. He a bit overbearing at times but you’ll get used to him. Took me a while, but I love it here.”

  
“Thanks for your concern, but I did not intend on killing my self on that bridge.”

  
The boy was silent for a moment, then got up to join his friends. The three bustled around the campsite.

  
Even only a few minutes was enough to allow you to realize that these three would never let you go alone. It takes you a few more minutes to accept that. And when Patton bounces over to you to ask where you live, you tell him.

  
He flashes a smile and sits next to you as the meteor shower starts.

  
you are glad you didn’t shoot yourself like you planned.  
(PS so am I tbh)

**Author's Note:**

> if you are feeling suicidal, please dont do it i know i dont know you but there are people who do.
> 
> 1-800-273-8255- the national suicide hotline


End file.
